


Soviet Mile High Club

by L1ttleSilkworm, shark-from-the-park (inigosolo)



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: AU, Anal sex fantasy, Enemies to Lovers, Fingering, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, Rimming fantasy, Smut, Spanking, Spanking Fantasy, Valoris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L1ttleSilkworm/pseuds/L1ttleSilkworm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/inigosolo/pseuds/shark-from-the-park
Summary: This story takes place in an AU in which no accident has happened. Valery and Boris are being sent to Chernobyl by Gorbachev in order to inspect the power plant’s design and how it is managed. After their first meeting in the Kremlin (which goes about the same as in the show), they find themselves on board of a helicopter heading to Pripyat’. A similar argument regarding the course of the helicopter ensues and Valery ends up tumbling in quite a similar way toward Boris. Also in this AU, no soldiers are accompanying them and Valery is wearing his light blue suit.
Relationships: Valery Legasov/Boris Shcherbina
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	Soviet Mile High Club

**Author's Note:**

> Please be forewarned that this story is a 6K+ word-long avalanche of decadent, hedonistic, unapologetic Valoris smut.
> 
> This work concerns strictly the characters created by Craig Mazin's imagination and by Jared Harris' and Stellan Skarsgard's inimitable acting talent, and categorically not the historical figures. If Valoris is not your thing, please refrain from hassling us. 18+ readers only please.

_Prompt (@shark-from-the-park): I can't shake the idea of Valery falling onto Boris's lap when the helicopter lurches and ending up with his chubby bottom sat firmly on Boris's firm thighs, with Boris's giant hands wrapped tightly around his middle, holding him firmly in place (because he's worried about Valery's safety, obviously, comrade, not for any other reason... He obviously can't have this clumsy chubby little nerd going banging about all over the helicopter...). And Valery would wriggle and try to get away. Feeling all flustered and hot and bothered and annoyed with Boris. The big handsome idiot. Unintentionally rubbing his deliciously plump bum all over Boris's lap. Bearing down on him with all his soft bulk... Accidental frottage..._

Valery, all huffy and sweaty, struggles to get up from Boris' lap and wriggle out of his grip. Boris, however, holds him firmly in place with both arms around him, one large hand pressing right below Valery's rib cage and another splayed right at the pudgy spot below Valery's belt.

Valery is absolutely furious about the indignity of his position - having to sit like a little boy on his Daddy's knee. Not to mention the urgency with which the heat starts pooling at his lower belly at the feel of Boris' strength, his warmth, his authority.

"I am making sure you are still in one piece when we land, Legasov! You clearly can't be trusted with that yourself," Boris grumbles close to Valery's ear, his gravelly voice and the warmth of his breath traveling in a shiver down Valery's spine and straight into his rapidly waking cock.

_"_ _Th_ _at_ _is 'Professor Legasov' to you, you government lout!"_ Valery thinks angrily, and struggles some more. But it’s futile - Boris' legs are so long that Valery's feet don't even reach the floor. All he accomplishes is grinding his sensitive bits all over Boris' warm crotch and sturdy thighs - which enflames and enrages Valery even further.

_"Do not think about his cock... Do! NOT! Think! About the size of his cock!"_ After a short but furious struggle with his wayward imagination, humiliated Valery accepts defeat as he envisions the Ukrainian giant's (surely!) enormous member in such a close proximity to his own broad chubby bottom... 

Valery is not the only one annoyed on that ride. Boris, too, is quite irritated with the little argumentative know-it-all who dared to correct him in front of Gorbachev in the meeting earlier! Not to mention trying to give commands to HIS pilot!

What this impudent ginger-haired brat needs, thinks Boris, is a proper spanking. Before Boris is able to stop himself, the fantasy flashes through his mind in which he bends Valery over the little table and gives that broad chubby ass a few swats. No, clothed spanking really won't be enough. Boris imagines pulling Valery's (who is strangely docile in his fantasy) pants and underwear down, freeing the soft, freckled globes to the air, rubbing them possessively with his palms, enjoying how cool they feel to his touch. Methodically taking his giant hand to one lovely plump cheek, then the other - again and again, watching them jiggle from the impact, spanking them until both cheeks turn thoroughly red and warm to the touch... Watching Valery whimper and moan, arching his back, begging for more of it, more of Boris' thorough punishment...

Boris sighs. For fuck's sake, what is he doing, what is he thinking?! The front of his trousers has filled out noticeably. Moreover, Valery grinding his big soft behind all over Boris' lap in a futile attempt to break free, only further adds to Boris' predicament.

Boris lets out another annoyed sigh, turning away to look out of the window, as he tries to distract himself. He should really let Valery go to his seat, but the helicopter has hit some turbulence and is shaking up and down, making it dangerous to get up. Boris grasps Valery's plump sides harder, frankly alarmed at what the rhythmic impact of that chubby behind bouncing up and down is doing to his now fully erect cock, wedged in the crevice between Valery's generous buttocks.

The turbulence grows stronger, and Valery lets out a sudden scared whimper. He is afraid of flying, realizes Boris. Another rough bump and the metal hull of the helicopter groans under strain. Valery cries out and involuntarily grasps Boris' hands with his, pulling Boris' arms tighter around his waist.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" he yelps, quickly removing his hands from Boris', mortified by his involuntary need for protection. "I'm just... I am not used to this!"

"We'll be fine, Legasov. Hold on to me, it's okay. I've experienced a lot worse, we'll be fine."

Boris closes his eyes, his heart beating fast, and not at all from the fear.

Valery cringes in both relief and humiliation as Boris comforts him. His hands come to rest lightly on Boris's wrists. Involuntarily, he is writhing back and forth ever so slightly in Boris's lap in a rhythmic motion, his body desperately seeking _something_. Boris is so big and sturdy and warm... The arms around his waist are so strong. 

The helicopter is buffeted by the wind and drops down slightly, making Valery's stomach swoop.

Boris's strong arms encircle his waist more tightly. In truth, Valery has stopped trying to get away.

Seemingly out of his control, his rear end is still making it's little rhythmic movements, seeking... Something. He can feel the solid ridge of the bullish Ukrainian's thick cock pressing up irresistibly into the cleft of his plump buttocks... Feel himself sliding over that hard length through layers of fabric.

Valery wishes he was wearing underwear. He tends to forgo it, as briefs have a tendency to dig into his pudgy, sensitive flesh and chafe his skin, and his trousers seem to fit more comfortably without it… But now, thanks to his lack of underwear, he can feel the whole length of Boris insinuated so perfectly between his buttocks... Rubbing against the seam of his trousers where it presses into Valery's heavy ball sack...

He is panting, quietly, he realises in mortification, has become stunningly erect in the thin, scratchy material of his suit trousers...

Valery has never felt more humiliated and more aroused in his life. His entire body is tingling with need, and he finds himself utterly powerless to stop the hungry little gyrations of his bottom against Boris' heat, Boris' hardness... Every time he tilts his pelvis backwards in a desperate search for stimulation, the rough seam of his trousers rubs against his sensitive bits - the underside of his cock, his plump ball sack, his tender perineum and his needy hole... These little movements is all he can do to feed that desperate hunger, and he feels he would die if he was to stop now.

Images flood Valery's brain - of him being bare from the waist down, lowering himself onto Boris' giant cock, grinding himself down on it in a series of cautious up-and-down movements, taking more and more of Boris into him each time, centimeter by centimeter. Sweating and breathing little shallow breaths as his body struggles to accommodate Boris' incredible length and girth, the pressure of it on his prostate making Valery arch and moan. He imagines Boris running his giant hands reassuringly over Valery's fleshy thighs and his chubby bottom - stroking, squeezing, slapping the plump flesh... He imagines Boris whispering words of encouragement to him as Valery is so close to taking Boris' entire length up his stretched hole... Praising him for being so good for him, so tight, so perfect at taking his cock. Valery's entire being in this moment would be him taking Boris, pleasing Boris, being the best Boris has ever had.

As if he hasn't humiliated himself enough already, Valery gets so carried away with his fantasy that he starts moaning softly in unison with the needy gyrations of his bottom against Boris' hardness. He only realizes that when Boris presses one hand to Valery's mouth, pointing at the pilot's open door

The gesture makes Boris lean forward, and Valery realizes that Boris is now looking right down the front of his body. Looking right at the erection tenting the fabric of his trousers and at a very large wet patch, no underwear in its way to stop it from spreading.

Valery silently curses his no-underwear habit, and even more so his propensity to produce embarrassing amounts of pre-come. He squeezes his eyes shut, the physical sting of humiliation that is coursing through his body is so strong it alone seems almost enough to make him come.

Boris is floored. He is reeling. There is literally nothing, _nothing_ , he wants more right now than to make this chubby little nerd come all over himself while he's sat in his lap. All other thoughts have been driven from his head by this all-consuming need.

He wants to own this man. He wants him to keep writhing and wriggling atop his own hard cock. He wants to know if this irritating little nerd is really walking about not wearing any underwear, as all his senses are telling him…

Boris grasps the plump little rolls of flesh that cover the scientist's hips hard in his big hands, and thrusts himself up between those ample buttocks, feeling his cock brush over Valery's balls.

He hears Valery let out a tiny little mewl of desperation, and the sound makes him pant and thrust up again. He angles his neck painfully to look over Valery's shoulder again, he can't get enough of seeing how erect he is, how wet he is, the fluid spreading over the pale material covering the man's crotch.

Boris can't get enough of seeing how close the little man is, how he's completely lost control, and it's all because of him...

His thick fingers splay out, feeling the pleasing roundness of Valery's belly, as he jolts his own hips upwards again into the warm, heavy bulk of the other man, gasping softly into the unruly, sweat-dampened tendrils of hair on the back of the other man's head.

"Oh!" he hears Valery moan softly, and he moves one hand to once again press over the smaller man's mouth, pressing his open lips to the base of Valery's skull as he thrusts once more.

Valery is lightheaded with knowledge that this gorgeous, intimidating, insufferable man wants him, is hard for him, that his hand is roaming possessively across Valery's belly, savoring its roundness, that his lips are pressed, in a startling, unmistakably tender way, to Valery's sweaty nape... Nothing, absolutely nothing has any importance to Valery anymore other than the realization that Boris Shcherbina wants him.

He feels Boris' hand moving from his hip to his left buttock, caressing it with a thumb, tentatively at first, but more and more emboldened with each passing moment... Hungry for stimulation nearly to the point of tears, Valery is writhing in Boris' lap, chasing that precious bit of sensation provided by the thoroughly wet fabric covering his crotch as it slides over the swollen head of his cock from all of Valery's desperate grinding. But it's not enough, not enough! In utter frustration, Valery starts bouncing in Boris' lap, needing, begging to be touched.

Taking some form of mercy on him, Boris raises his left knee over the other so that Valery is now perched upon his left thigh, straddling it. Boris raises it a little further still, just as Valery leans forward... Mercifully, his needy, leaking, swollen cock is now pressed into Boris' sturdy thigh and Valery at once starts rutting against it, squeezing his thighs around it, trembling with exertion and need that is beyond desperation at this point.

In doing so, Valery is leaning more and more forward, while arching his lower back, which gives Boris' an absolutely sinful view of the younger man's generous bottom. Boris' imagination is awash with images of all the dirty and wonderful things he wants to do to this chubby impudent nerd. The little brat won't be so argumentative and cheeky when Boris has him on elbows and knees, his freckled behind high up in the air, pink and warm all over after a good spanking, would he?... Oh, the sweet little noises of surprise Valery will be making when Boris' skilled tongue pushes into his surrendered, grateful, fluttering hole!

Boris feels the wetness of Valery's arousal against the skin of his thigh. He is going to make this delicious little brat come so hard, he'll make him walk out of this helicopter with a sticky mess in his trousers, his eyes downcast, sheepishly covering his crotch with a jacket while Boris would be possessively patting his pretty chubby behind on the way out.

Breathing heavily, he yanks Valery backward, so that his own hard cock is pressed into the softness of Valery's buttock. He reaches with his left hand into the heat between Valery's thighs, brushing against his plump ball sack and settling at the warm sensitive area below it, probing, exploring. Oh yes - definitely no underwear.

Boris has the most absurd urge to tear open the straining seam of Valery's cheap trousers with his still-strong fingers and set the chubby buttocks within spilling free from their fabric prison... The rogue thought excites him so much that he has to press his open mouth to Valery's warm neck, just below his ear, and suckle there, hard, harder than he means to…

And _oh fuck_ , the effect it has on Valery... The way he shoots upright, rigid, and then desperately begins to thrust his bottom back harder with breathy little gasps that Boris desperately hopes that their pilot can't hear... And yet desperately wishes that everyone in the USSR could hear. _God_ , everyone in the world should be made to listen to the evidence of just how hungry and weak and wanton this stubborn, rotund little scientist is for Boris Shcherbina. 

He is dizzy with lust, suckling at Valery's tender neck, his pulse point, and Valery is... Oh fuck. Valery is pretty much riding Boris's tensed thigh. _Fuck._

To see the enthusiastic, desperately needy way the uppity, self-important little man is sliding himself repeatedly backwards, mashing his extraordinarily plump buttocks against Boris's belly, again and again and again...

Fuck. This will be the end of Boris.

Boris is heedless of the flimsiness of the fabric of Valery's trousers now, as he presses his hand under Valery's hot, bulky, heavy weight, as he crooks his thumb and uses the thick knuckle of it to press upwards _hard_ into the delicious rim of Valery's arsehole. He can actually feel the flimsy fabric covering his knuckle sliding over the hole, perhaps even dipping inside it the tiniest bit.

Valery cries out "Oh!!" in such an utterly wrecked voice and ruts back so hard onto Boris's crooked thumb that Boris begins to fear that he actually will tear the fabric.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Boris, Valery has been having a somewhat similar fantasy, his delirious mind feverishly imagining strong, authoritative, powerful Boris ripping open the straining seat of Valery's trousers and exposing his plump bottom thoroughly to his heated gaze. Even the _thought_ of that... Even the thought of the abject humiliation of landing in Chernobyl with the seat of his trousers split wide open, with his chubby buttocks exposed for all to see, with come running down his legs... Fuck, it does nothing to dampen his ardour for Boris. Boris. _Boris_. In fact it... In truth it... Fuck, it increases it..... 

Fuck, Valery thinks he's going to come...

He doesn't know how he's lasted this long...

Boris is mesmerized by the view of those ample buttocks, presented to him in such an obscene way, shamelessly grinding and rubbing and pushing back at the stimulation provided by his crooked thumb. Who would have thought that behind all the aloofness was this sensual, debauched animal, writhing in his lap in such a delicious sexual frustration!

The knuckle of Boris' thumb is sinking right into the heat of Valery's arsehole, shielded from the intrusion only by a thin layer of cheap blue fabric. He can swear he can feel the pulsing of the aroused flesh, can trace the ridges of the furrowed entrance - opening up to him in surrender. So, so hungry for him.

In his frustrated effort to give more, stronger, harder to Valery, Boris straightens his thumb and presses hard at the beckoning spot between the two generous cheeks, moving around it in circular motion just as Valery all but slams his posterior into the sensation. There is a "crack!" sound, and the flimsy, worn threads of the seam give out suddenly, and Boris' thumb pad meets the plump heated flesh... For a few moments, he can hardly process what has happened, as he takes in the sensation of the suppleness and warmth of Valery's tight, neat puckered flesh beneath his thumb.

Oh how Valery's spine goes rigid, how he arches his back, shuddering all over! Boris wonders for a moment if he might have just come from that sudden contact. He pulls away and his other hand loosens its grip on Valery's mouth momentarily. The younger man gasps for air, then throws his head up again, arching and writhing with utter abandon... Then, a raspy whisper, a litany of pleas as if at the cusp of madness, "Please.. please.. oh please..."

Boris carefully re-inserts his thumb, moistened with saliva, inside the torn seam, exploring, pressing again into the heated flesh. "Ple-e-ease..." Valery begs in a thin whine, and Boris' hand goes to cover his mouth again, as he keeps on massaging the rim of Valery's hole, pressing, probing, coaxing...

Holding on to Boris' knee for support and bending forward, Valery pushes back to meet the pressure from Boris' thumb, making it sink into his inviting hot flesh, snapping his fleshy behind up and down in search of that unbearable sensation he is craving more and more of. Desperately fucking himself onto Boris' thick thumb, until finally his hungry hole surrenders wholly to its intrusion, sheathing the entire length of it with its silken, fluttering walls.

Valery has truly never been more aroused, or more _humiliated_ , in all his life. The worn seam of his trousers has had to put up with a lot over the years, what with having to stretch and strain around his fat bottom every time he bent over or sat down... But this... Boris's thick thumb had been too much for it...

 _And it's my fault..._ thinks Valery, I couldn't stop myself from thrusting backwards... I was just so hungry to have any piece of Boris inside of me…

Valery cringes at his utter, wanton desperation for the big Ukrainian. It has flared up so quickly... But in truth the moment he had first seen Boris in the meeting room in the Kremlin, something hot and heavy and uncomfortable had settled in his belly.

He has what he wanted, now. Valery is pinned, impaled on Boris's intruding digit, even if he is desperately wishing it was his cock instead... He is thrusting down onto it, again and again, needing more and more. Every backwards motion impales him on Boris's spit-slicked thumb again, and every forwards motion rubs his dick against Boris's sturdy thigh...

Valery is in a torment of heightened ecstasy, on a plateau of arousal he can't quite believe actually exists. Sweat is dampening his face. He can feel the slick of it, even on his eyelids. He never wants to move from Boris's lap.

"We're about 15 minutes away from Chernobyl, Comrade Shcherbina, Sir." The helicopter pilot calls through to them from the cockpit. Intruding on this private world they are both lost in. The voice makes them both jolt, a little, stills their movements.

"Thank you, Comrade." Boris manages to call back after a long moment. His voice has been gruff since Valery met him earlier, but now it sounds like sandpaper. It makes Valery shudder.

Somehow, the intrusion of reality, the thought of having to land, having to stop this madness, having to disembark this helicopter looking like considerably more of a wreck than when he got on it, does nothing to stem Valery's enthusiasm for this moment.

He slowly, tortuously lowers himself onto Boris's thumb again, clenching around it.

Boris makes a low, rumbling noise, and withdraws his thumb. Valery hears him spit into his hand again, and a thrill runs from the roots of his hair down to his poor, over-stimulated cock.

"Please.... _Please..._ " he whines softly, reduced to begging this big brute of a man so easily.

He feels the hole in the seam of his trousers being split open further as Boris forces his index and middle fingers through the gap, touching the tips of them to Valery's twitching, desperate arsehole.

Valery whines again. He mewls. He has lost all his restraint, all his dignity. He wriggles backwards, desperate to seat himself on Boris's thick fingers.

Boris is careful, so infuriatingly careful, about inserting the fingertips, careful not to stretch him too far, careful not to hurt him.

Valery wants to slap him. He hisses, and thrusts backwards onto the thick digits. They slide in slowly, he flutters and clenches around them, all the time bearing down, down. Oh fuck the stretch is so glorious, it is divine...

He begins his back and forth thrusting motions again.

Boris is moaning softly behind him. He is thrusting in with his hand... 

Valery is... Is... _He's_...

And Boris is moaning, moaning.

"I want you, I want you, _I want you_...." Valery is panting nonsensically in time with each downwards thrust.

Hearing this seems to do something to Boris. He bites down viciously on the juncture between Valery's neck and his shoulder, making a stifled little growling noise.

He crooks his thrusting fingers in just the right way, brushing against Valery's prostate. And he savagely clamps Valery's mouth shut with his huge hand.

Valery explodes.

That's what it feels like, at least. He cries out "Oh, _Boris_!" into Boris's big palm, his voice smothered.

His cock pushes against Boris's thigh one final time and releases, copiously, sticky, hot fluid staining his pale trousers still further. He continues to writhe back onto Boris's fingers, and they seem to stroke him through it, though never touching his cock.

Boris is softly kissing the spot between his shoulder and his neck where he bit down.

Valery has to focus on something while he gets his breath back, so he focuses on that. His entire lower half is completely numb, temporarily devoid of all sensations. His blood is rushing in his ears. His heart is pounding against his ribcage.

Valery is savoring this moment of pure bliss, his eyes shut, breath slowly returning to normal. He feels as if every bone in his body has disappeared, as if he is melting into Boris' sturdy frame. He sighs deeply and leans further back into Boris' warm chest...Boris' face, meanwhile, is tucked into the side of Valery's neck, as he is gently exploring his reddened, sweat-slicked skin with his lips. Valery makes a tiny squeak of protest as Boris' fingers slide out of his tender, stretched entrance, its muscles grasping hungrily at the loss of fullness inside him.

He should be so ashamed right now, mortified at what happened, at his debauchery and wantonness, at the brazenness with which he has fed his deepest desires that have been pent up in him for so long. He should be terrified that Boris will report him, will have him fired from the commission, or at the very least be disgusted by him for the rest of their time here. But Valery is feeling none of it. He is feeling so safe, so protected... cherished even, as Boris' strong arms hold him gently but securely across his waist, while his lips continue their exploration of the soft skin of Valery's neck. Valery sighs contentedly again... whatever comes next, this moment, this memory will never be taken away from him.

He shifts the weight of his bottom on Boris' lap to press himself even closer into the older man's warmth and then, guiltily, realizes that Boris is still hard in his trousers. A new desire, one of a different, more conscious kind, borne of this impossible, implausible moment of utter bliss and utter security, overtakes him. He twists his upper body backwards and, shocked by his own boldness, looks directly into the Ukrainian's luminous eyes. He feels a bit of satisfaction at how Boris looks more than a bit startled as he meets Valery's gaze for the first time after all the madness that had just transpired between them. Then, Valery looks right past Boris, at where the pilot is. He rises from Boris' lap and pulls the older man with him to the empty couch on the other side of the salon - away from the pilot's direct line of sight.

"Valery," says Boris, in a low, raspy tone, as they sit down. "Valera," he corrects himself.

Valery nods, and reaches to press his lips into Boris', then runs his hand down Boris' wide chest, the slight paunch of his belly and all the way down to his erect cock. Boris grunts softly and opens his legs wider as he slides down the soft cushion of the couch. Through the dark fabric of Boris' trousers, Valery explores the coveted shape with both of his small, soft hands, marvelling at its incredible size. His breath quickens with the absolutely maddening desire to see it. The idea of bringing this man, so big, so authoritative, so well put together, to the point of pure need, to wield the power over his pleasure, his release... is intoxicating to Valery. They should have about ten minutes left before they land, and he intends to make the most of it.

Valery slides his hand to Boris's fly. The sound of the zipper lowering is excruciatingly loud in the quiet cabin, but Valery can't find it in him to care about that now. He reaches into the soft material of Boris's underwear and finds his hand awash with velvety warmth... So much heat. He is gentle as he frees Boris's big cock from the fabric, the hard length instantly bobbing upwards into the air.

Boris groans. A wonderful sound to Valery's ears.

" _Shhhhhhhhhhh..._ " He whispers teasingly to the big man, and is rewarded with another deliciously low growl...

Valery is still numb from the waist down. the sight of Boris's big, hard cock straining upwards, bared to his appreciative eyes at last, literally makes his mouth water. He takes Boris's intimidating girth into his gentle grip, and the feel of the silky heat against his palm makes him moan aloud.

Boris's head falls back against the couch. His breathing is erratic. Valery can feel the older man's heavy lidded gaze on him.

He slowly strokes his fist down Boris's huge shaft, pulling down his foreskin.

The big Ukrainian makes an unexpectedly soft noise in his throat.

He has snuck an arm around Valery's back and is intermittently groping at Valery's large bottom, his thick fingers grazing over the tear in the fabric and the plump skin beneath.

The idea that Boris finds him... _alluring_ is extremely hard for Valery to grasp, but the evidence is there in the way his breath stutters when he gropes Valery's fleshy buttocks.

Half-lying on the couch with his face above Boris' hard cock, Valery arches his back eagerly at the touch, giving Boris better access to his large behind. The older man growls approvingly, stroking and squeezing and lightly tapping Valery's plentiful buttocks with increased ardor, dipping his fingers into the tear in the fabric, grazing the soft naked flesh. The realization that Boris is clearly enjoying the feel of his behind, which Valery all his life has considered to be quite unfortunately proportioned, is utterly unbelievable to him and at the same time, intoxicating. And he wants more of it, desperately so. So, so much more. He wants to be on display for this big, handsome, authoritative man, wants to be ordered to drop his pants and present his ample behind for Boris' appraisal, Boris' pleasure... Valery cannot contain a moan at the thought of it, feeling his own cock filling out again as he continues stroking the big Ukrainian's giant member with his hand. He watches, hypnotized, how bead after bead of shiny fluid gathers at the tip of it, then rolls down its length, disappearing inside Boris' underwear.

Valery gasps at his own brazenness as he leans down and gently sweeps his tongue over the velvety head of Boris' cock, savoring the salty taste of the older man's arousal. Boris groans in response, more urgently than before, needing more of the sensation, and the sound of it fills Valery with a fierce sense of pride. Look at that big, gorgeous man, so hard for him, leaking for him, making such perfect, needy noises for him.

He licks off another bead of Boris' pre-come, dipping his tongue into the slit slightly, teasing it. Boris grunts sharply in response, thrusting up a little, to Valery's delight. With the tip of his tongue, Valery traces yet another bead of salty fluid down the length of Boris' shaft as low as the fabric of the trousers allows him to. He inhales as he does so, and the private, musky, unbelievably erotic scent of Boris hits his nostrils, making him shiver with pleasure and need. Valery inhales again, hungrily, burrowing into the opening of Boris' fly as deep as he can, hearing above him Boris exhaling in a shuddering, rapturous "Oh-h-h-h" as he watches him…

The tip of Valery’s nose touches gently against the soft skin of Boris’s abdomen as he breathes him in. Boris makes an odd little high pitched noise, quickly stifled, strange when contrasted with his normally deep, growling voice. Valery, giddy, gives a little huff of fondness against the big man’s sensitive skin. He licks up Boris’s big cock, from root to tip. Boris quivers all over and makes a desperate sound through clenched teeth.

Valery’s cock has started to press insistently against the damp, sticky front of his trousers again. Suppressing another wanton moan, he plunges his mouth down over Boris’s shaft, clumsy with lack of practice, barely able to take half Boris’s length, remembering to be careful with his teeth.

Boris seems utterly determined not to let go of Valery’s bottom, which is a feat considering their positions now. The big man is stretching his arm out to grasp the top of Valery’s fleshy buttocks where he is hunching over on the couch. Valery wonders if Boris intends to ever let go of his bottom again, and the ridiculous thought produces an excruciating warmth in Valery as he imagines inspecting the power plant while the deputy chairman gropes his plump backside continuously in full view of everyone.

He groans around Boris’s cock, and the big man thrusts up into his mouth, bumping the back of his throat, and claws painfully, wonderfully, at Valery’s arse with his big hand.

“Sorry! Sorry Valera...” He mutters, his eyes flying open to inspect the shorter man. One hand stroking tenderly, apologetically at Valery’s face and hair while the other remains gripping, vice-like, at Valery’s fleshy buttocks.

Valery pushes both his face and his backside into Boris’s touch, embarrassingly greedy for it.

He pulls up off Boris for a moment to swallow and get his breath back. He gives Boris a shy little grin to show the big man that he’s okay, that he doesn’t mind a bit of rough treatment, that in fact he, he, he… _Ohhhhh_ … He could almost come in his pants again.

Boris looks down at him with such tenderness, such surprise, such fondness. Valery wants to preen under that heavy gaze. Instead, he does what he does best and concentrates hard. He rolls his mouth down over Boris’s huge cock again, not getting any further than last time, and he seals his lips and sucks, while his fingers encircle the base of the shaft where his mouth can’t reach.

Boris trembles with the effort of restraining himself to more gentle upward thrusts into Valery’s wet mouth and suction. Valery continues to tongue and suck, excited with his progress, the pained noises from the big Ukrainian, smiling against the intrusion of cock in his mouth, breathing hard through his nose.

Boris’s gasping hand leaves Valery’s backside suddenly, and before Valery can even mourn the loss of it, it comes back down again, smacking his plump buttocks incredibly hard, driving Valery’s hips down hard into the couch with the force of it.

The impact of Boris' large hand slapping Valery's fleshy buttocks makes his hips slide against the leather couch, the underside of his cock sliding inside his thoroughly damp trousers. He cries out with surprise and the intensity of the sensation, wanting more of it, immediately - as his most secret desires, laid hidden for his entire life, burst forth to the surface. He juts his ample behind into the path of Boris' hand, demanding further attention to it. 

The older man obliges him, landing another smack on Valery's bottom, making him slide again against the couch and eliciting the most undignified moans from the scientist. Valery is lapping at the silken head of Boris' cock deliriously, as if it would somehow hasten his own release, the need for which is all but unbearable. 

Boris emits a long, shuddering growl, his hips moving to meet Valery's mouth in short thrusts, the level of his arousal making it impossible for him to remain still. He lands yet another smack on the younger man's behind.

"Faster! Please!" desperately cries out Valery, the whup-whupping of the helicopter thankfully drowning out the sound. He lets Boris' cock out of his mouth for a moment, looking up at the big man with his imploring blue eyes, clouded with desire, saliva running down his chin. 

Valery's plea and the sight of his wanton expression makes Boris go positively feral. "Gonna have that big beautiful ass of yours naked across my lap later... smack it until you're sore... until you beg me to stop... then spread those red, stinging cheeks wide and make you take me to the root..." growls Boris, breathless and quivering all over. 

Valery's eyes slide shut, his face twists and mouth goes slack as if Boris' words alone are just about to throw him over the edge. Picking up the pace, Boris spanks his fleshy behind again, and again, and again. Valery feels a rising sensation in his belly, realizing dimly, somewhere at the edge of his consciousness that it is not just his orgasm building, but the helicopter beginning its descent. 

Spurred by this realization into frantic action, he closes his lips around Boris' cock and laps at it with furious abandon, humming and moaning as he does so. Nothing, absolutely nothing in the world matters in this moment other than making this gorgeous, domineering statesman lose control and spend into his hungry, willing mouth.

Valery slips his arm around Boris' sturdy waist, feeling the larger man's back arching. He maintains the pace of his tongue on Boris' cock, and of his hand, stroking the length of it that he couldn't fit into his mouth. 

"Watch out, Valera," manages Boris just as his voice dissolves into an animal-like half-moan, half-growl - but it only makes Valery clamp his lips around Boris' hardness with even more hunger and determination. 

First hot spurts of the big man's seed hit the roof of Valery's mouth and begin pooling on his tongue. _"Does everything about this man have to be enormous?"_ Valery thinks dimly, his mouth filling rapidly with the incredible volume of Boris' load. The rich taste and the sheer volume of it drives Valery positively feral. It is all for him, Boris is giving this all to him. 

Valery moans around Boris' thick member, swallowing everything that the big man has to give in hungry gulps, while unabashedly rutting against the surface of the couch, his own cock in desperate need of attention. Boris spills and spills into his welcoming mouth, thick fingers of his left hand grasping at Valery's hair, while the right hand fiercely palms the softness of Valery's ample behind - until Valery, too, explodes into his damp trousers for the second time in merely half an hour as if he was a teenager. 

As he loses control in the moment of ecstasy, he manages to spill some of Boris' come, feeling thick liquid running down his chin. Boris loosens his grip on Valery, looking at the disheveled, breathless man from under his heavy eyelids, belly rising and falling gently as he is savoring his post orgasmic bliss. 

Valery gives a few parting licks to Boris' sensitive head, already sorry for it to be over. As he pulls back, Valery notices that some of the thick milky liquid has spilled on the fabric at the fly of Boris' trousers. He leans down and carefully licks the spot clean, hungry for every last drop of Boris' release and inexplicably fiercely protective of the perfection of Boris' image.

He raises his head and meets Boris' gaze, as the older man strokes Valery's ginger hair, gently this time, looking at breathless Valery with startling tenderness. 

"Thank you," blurts out Valery suddenly, and immediately his face is hot with shame, awash in the spectacular, singular embarrassment of managing to thank Boris for coming in his mouth. Valery wants to disappear, jump out of the helicopter maybe - but just in this moment the machine is touching down on the landing pad.

"Valera," says Boris in a raspy voice, his thumb resting for yet another tender moment on Valery's cheek, then sliding down to his chin, carefully wiping the remnants of his release off of it. "What kind of a beautiful disaster are you, Valera? Get up now, quick." 

Valery has nothing else to do but obey, rising off the couch and realizing in horror that the front of his light blue trousers is completely damp, fabric sticking to his still partly hard cock, leaving nothing to imagination. "For fuck's sake, Valera," exclaims Boris as he surveys the wreckage. 

He then roughly turns Valery around, pressing authoritatively on his lower back as a signal to bend over. Boris examines the extent of the fabric tear with his fingers, brushing briefly against the soft skin of Valery's generous buttocks. 

Valery turns beet red as he, after two consecutive orgasms, is feeling immediately needy and aroused again, just at the fact that his ample bottom is being examined by Boris in such a no-nonsense manner. 

"Here, put my coat on," says Boris, handing Valery his coat. "Button it up." 

In the nick of time, Valery manages to slip on the coat - just as the pilot emerges from his seat and opens the helicopter door for them. "Welcome to Pripyat', Comrades."


End file.
